Playing the Animal
by lou-thewriter
Summary: "Claire would test my patience, holding out for the reward, and I would undoubtedly offer it to her in order to return her to my side, forced to grudgingly participate in the game of Animals." - Claire and Quil play games and push boundaries.


_Disclaimer - Need I even say it?_

Playing the Animal

"Claire," I called quietly, almost cooing her back to me. She kept her back turned. "Clai-re." Sometimes I don't recognize the sing-song tone I assumed in her presence. This time, she took a step toward the cliff. She wasn't close enough yet to fall; if I needed to I could catch her before she reached the edge of the precipice. "We can play animals," I offered, resorting to a silly bribe. It's amazing how much control a made up "game" can have over a child's priorities. And it's amazing how much control this child had over my priorities.

Claire turned her head – to my delight –, her long brown hair sweeping over her shoulder as she let out a mischievous grin. This had become our routine. Claire would test my patience, holding out for the reward, and I would undoubtedly offer it to her in order to return her to my side, forced to grudgingly participate in Animals. There was always the unwritten pact, though: I knew she would never jump; she knew I was more than happy to play any game (no matter how stupid) with her.

We stood in the showdown stance.

"Claire bear."

"Quil."

Her smirk stretched into a grin, and she suddenly ran toward me, jumping into my waiting arms and wrapping her legs around my torso.

"You're getting big," I stated, smiling from her touch.

"Well, we have been playing this game for fourteen years," she responded. "Maybe it's time we replace it with a _new_ tradition." Did I detect a suggestive tone? Or was I simply overcome by my desire to ... make love to her.

Who am I kidding? I want to fuck Claire. Respectfully, of course. With permission and all.

"Replace it? Never. We can _add _to it," I replied, attempting to mimic her inflection.

She smiled, seemingly intrigued by the idea. "As a birthday present!" We reached my truck and I sat her down in the rear. "We're going to play, right?" The smile had drifted from her face. Eager to see it return, I joined her on the truck.

"Duh," I told her.

"Antelope," she replied, clearly wasting no time.

"Beaver."

"Cow."

"Deer."

The game continued blandly – as always – until Claire got to Q. This was always the highlight of the game, the only reason we played.

"What's this one again? Help me out. I need a hint."

"A hint means you lose."

"Nuh-uh."

I growled. I wanted to hear her say it, to classify the name as an animal. So what if it was some bizarre sexual desire? Claire would be all mine one day, in every way, and she was quite the tempting seventeen-year-old...

"Hmm..." she teased, pulling me out of a trance. I snapped my eyes back to her own.

"Claire," I said, almost warningly.

She laughed, giving in and rolling her eyes. "Quil!" She exclaimed, the grin plastered back to her beautiful face. She threw her arms around me, shifting her body onto my waist. It was too much. I needed her. I wanted her. I loved her. But we weren't there yet.

Too bad my penis was.

Claire's head popped up. She questioned me with her eyes. I blushed, looked away, and tried to push her off my lap. "No," she refused seriously, and moved herself far too temptingly on my already tempted lower half.

I met her eyes, expecting to see a combination of fear and disgust, but found only lust. I searched them for a long moment before flipping us over on the truck in one fluid movement, placing myself above her. The way she gazed up at me was so innocent. "Be my animal?" she asked, wrapping her perfect fingers around a lock of my hair.

"You don't know how long I've waited for you to say that," I said, desire overwhelming the words. I let my lips attack hers, slowly letting us become horizontal. She ran her fingers down my cheeks and grabbed my shirt, pulling me closer as I let my hands wander dangerously under her shirt. Before we got carried away, my rational side kicked in and demanded that I return us to a less compromising position. Claire protested this decision, which made it that much harder, but still...

"That was...I mean that – you're..." I trailed off, at a loss for words. "Claire, I love you."

"I love you too," she laughed, adjusting her top. "Glad you finally came around."


End file.
